EORGIA  BURCHARD 


LIBRARY 

OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 

OK 


In 


Songs 
3n  Jttany 


BY  GEORGE   BURCHARD 


vcccta  ^ 


or 


flfllfjitaher  &  Eap  Company 


(Incorporated) 

PUBLISHERS 

San  Francisco 

1905 


Copyright 
by 
George  Burchar*. 


PREFACE 

The  poems  contained  in  this  Book  of  Verse  have  been 
pitched  in  various  keys,  according  to  the  nature  of  the 
thought  and  feelings  which  dominate  the  themes. 

It  seems  sufficient  to  express  the  hope  that  some  of 
these  songs  may  awaken  a  responsive  chord  in  the  heart  of 
the  reader. 

GEORGE  BURCHARD 


CONTENTS. 

Robert  of  Lincoln 13 

A  Mountain  Song 17 

The  Meadow-Lark 19 

Hymn  to  the  Morning 20 

Mountain  Pines — A  Song 22 

How  Day  Excels  the  Night     ....  23 

Daybreak          25 

After  the  Storm 27 

The  Siskiyous 28 

The  Reformer's  Creed     ......  30 

Let  My  People  Go ! 31 

Who  Is  My  Master? 33 

Sailing  Room  for  All 34 

Discharging  a  Debt .  35 

The  Voyage  of  Life 36 

Love's  Chain         37 

To  a  Departing  Friend 38 

Golden  Gates         39 

Dining  a  Friend 41 

Dark  Is  the  Storm-Cloud 45 

Life  Is  Beautiful 46 

Flag  of  Our  Fathers 47 

Courage -49 

7] 


Lines  Written  at  the  Death  of 

William  McKinley 51 

A  Dirge 52 

H°Pe 53 

Song — In  the  Meadows         54 

The  Reconciliation .  55 

Lines  to  a  Young  Urchin 56 

To  a   Child 58 

Songs  That  Mother  Used  to  Sing    ...  59 

Good-by 60 

Shoshone  Cradle  Song 62 

The  Lover's  Dream 63 

Rain  in  California 64 

A  Harvest  Song 65 

The  Belfry  Clock 66 

The  Voice  of  the  Battle 68 

Toleration         69 

When  Thou  Art  Near 70 

How  Firm  of  Heart         72 

The  Universal  Prayer 73 

For  Ages  and  for  Ages 74 

Travellers         75 

Step  by  Step 80 

The  Autumn  Leaf 82 

Voice  of  the  Organ 83 

[8 


Jn 


Sonnets 89 

A  Vision  of  California 91 

Love  and  Truth  Working 92 

Storm  at  Sea 93 

A  Mind  of  Calm  Content 94 

A  Million  Years  but  as  Yesterday    ...  95 

Mother  and  Child 96 

Transforming  Power  of  Love     ....  97 

The  Light  Prophetic 98 

The  Commons       ........  99 

Truth  Is  Changeless 100 

Power  of  Faith 101 

The  True  Victor         102 

Nobility  of  Work 103 

Prisoners  of  Hope 104 

The  Problem          105 


91 


3!ti 


o  n  s  0    3  n    S£  a  n  p    Hep* 


ROBERT  OF  LINCOLN. 
I. 

When  the  long  and  dreamy  days  of  June 
Linger  on  the  endless  praire-land, 

Sweet,  oh  Bobolink,  that  warbling  tune! 
Life's  best  riches  come  at  your  command! 

Piebald   singer,   rollicking   with   mirth, 
Swaying  from  some  simple  homely  weed, 

Trilling  to  your  nestlings  on  the  earth, 
Soon  will  pinions  aid  your  joyful  speed! 

With  a  sudden  flirt  you  upward  spring, 
Leave  behind  the  well-screen'd,  grassy  nest, 

Mounting,  mounting,  while  you  sing  and  sing,- 
Life  for  you  holds  nothing  but  the  best  ! 


3n 


II. 


I  have  heard  a  doubtful  story 

Of  your  curious  transformations, 

Changes  wrought  in  voice  and  plumage, 

From  my  well-known  meadow-singer 

( Dress 'd  in  black  and  very  proper) 

To  a  bird  whose  reputation 

Scarce  would  stand  a  close  inspection; 

But  I'm  loath  to  give  it  credence. 

Stories  of  the  evil  doings 

Must  be  proved,  ere  I  believe  them, 

Of  my  singer  of  the  meadows ! 

Characters  are  built  up  slowly, 

And  the  life  you  have  been  leading, 

All  the  days  of  balmy  summer, 

Proves  you  love  your  wife  and  children, 

Love  the  sunshine  and  its  brightness, 

And  the  waving  of  the  grasses! 

How  could  such  a  bird  as  you  were, 
Always  careful  of  your  duties, 

[14 


In   fitpanp 


Always  singing  out  of  gladness, 
With  a  heart  whose  throbs  were  praises,- 
How  could  you  become  a  spendthrift? 
Pass  your  days  in  ribald  chatter, 
Down  among  the  reeds  and  sedges, 
Deck'd  in  feathers  brown  and  sombre — 
Like  the  common  birds  of  passage, — 
Swarming  on  the  bending  rushes, 
Waiting  there  with  countless  thousands, 
Till  the  huntsman  came  to  find  you? 

How  could  you  become  a  gourmand 
Later,  in  the  southern  rice-fields? 
Pass  the  sunny  days  in  eating! 
With  a  crowd  of  hungry  comrades 
Settling,  thick  as  bees  at  swarming, 
Where  the  rice-stalks  grow  the  rankest? 

Tales  like  these  they  have  been  telling 
Of  the  double-life  you're  leading, — 
But,  my  Robert,  I  know  better 
Than  to  listen  to  such  prattle! 
All  the  days  of  balmy  summer 


Jn 


Prove  you  love  your  wife  and  children, 
Love  the  sunshine  and  its  brightness, 
Love  the  waving  of  the  grasses ! 
Well  I  know  you've  done  your  duty, 
Sung  your  song  whose  notes  were  gladness, 
With  a  heart  whose  throbs  were  praises! 

Tis  by  such  things  I  remember 
What  your  life  has  been  among  us ; 
And  'tis  useless  for  these  prophets 
To  predict  your  future  downfall, 
When  the  wealth  of  waving  rice-fields 
Works  the  ruin  of  its  robbers — 
To  such  tales  I  give  no  credence! 

III. 

Then  sing  with  a  will  while  the  day  is  advancing  I 
On  the  top  of  the  hill,  how  the  sunbeams  are 

dancing ! 

The  tall  grasses  nod,  there's  a  stir  in  the  trees, 
The  bounty  of  God  is  borne  with  the  breeze. 

[16 


Jn   fi^ang 


Up,  up  and  away,  your  swift  course  be  winging, 
'Tis  best  to  greet  day  with  music  and  singing; 
A  song  for  your  mate,  who  follows  your  flight, 
As  you  soar  to  the  gate,  to  the  fountain  of  light! 

The  day  is  at  hand,  who  cares  for  the  morrow  1 
As  a  mist  from  the  land,  light  scatters  all  sorrow ! 
Sing,  Robert,  oh  sing !  with  a  voice  free  of  care ! 
Let  the  whole  valley  ring,  for  the  morning  is  fair ! 


A  MOUNTAIN  SONG. 

Tho'  I  dwell  here  in  the  valley, 
Heart  and  thought  are  far  away; 

Tho'  I  hear  the  blithe  lark  whistling, 
Sounding  welcome  to  the  day, 

Yet  I'm  yearning  for  the  mountains — 
Sunburst  lights  and  shadows  gray! 


Sn    S^anp 


Have  you  seen  the  waking  Sunrise, 

Painting  on  a  rose-hued  sky? 
Dashing  o'er  the  Night's  dark  splendor, 

Gorgeous  shades  of  Eastern  dye? 
Mingling  colors  that  the  artists 

Have  in  vain  essayed  to  try? 

Have  you  seen  the  purpling  mountain, 
Looming,  massive,  in  the  light; 

Seen  the  glowing  clouds  above  you, 
Flaming  pillars  turning  white? 

Then  you  know  why  I  am  dreaming  — 
Longing  for  the  mountain-height. 

In  those  high  and  silent  forests, 
Roam  we  free  the  hunter's  ground! 

Where  the  deer  his  haunt  is  making, 
Mid  the  solitudes  profound! 

Where  the  pine  trees  stand  defiant, 

Battling,  while  the  storms  surge   'round! 


[18 


3n 


THE  MEADOW-LARK. 

Oft  we  hear  at  dawn  of  day 

Nature's  music  start  to  play : 

Flutes  and  organs,  rustling  leaves, 

Crickets  chirping  mid  the  sheaves, — 

Loud  and  clear  above  them  all 

Breaks  the  meadow-lark's  sweet  morning  call ! 

Ere  the  sun  has  kissed  the  ground, 

Liquid  notes,  with  flute-like  sound, 

Greet  the  coming  of  the  light, 

Banish  sombre  shades  of  night; 

While  the  earth  in  glad  surprise, 

Shakes  the  dewdrops  from  her  drowsy  eyes. 

Thro'  the  dusk  there  comes  a  note 

From  some  feather'd  chorister's  throat; 

Then  another  answers  clear, — 

Some  afar  and  some  anear; 

Soon  the  chorus  richly  swells, 

Ech'ing  down  the  woods  and  shady  dells. 


Dun  and  yellow  are  his  clothes; 
Every  boy  this  songster  knows: 
Knows  his  whistle,  blithe  and  gay, 
Good  to  drive  bad  dreams  away ! 
Always  merry,  never  still, 
Singer  of  the  vale  and  sunny  hill! 


HYMN   TO    THE    MORNING. 

With  joy  we  hear  at  break  of  day 
The  voice  of  Nature  speak  alway 
The  self-same  song,  first  heard  by  man, 
When  earth,  new-form'd,  her  course  began. 
In  bleat  of  lamb,  in  tuneful  lark, 
Tho'  no  progression  we  can  mark — 
Far  different  they  from  human-kind 
Who  speech  improve  with  growth  of  mind- 
Yet  all  such  natural  tones  inspire, 
And  warm  the  heart  with  lambent  fire. 


[20 


In   apang   lug* 


For  large  the  wealth  of  Nature's  store ; 

A  task  unending  to  explore. 

Like  Newton  on  a  shore  we  stand, 

And  mys'tries  view  on  ev'ry  hand. 

The  world  is  wide,  the  outlook  broad; 

Before  such  grandeur  we  stand  awed; 

Or  join  us  in  the  hymn  of  praise 

Which  each  succeeding  dawn  doth  raise ; 

For  why  alone  should  man  be  mute 

When  mountain,  bird,  and  each  dumb  brute 

Extol  in  songs  of  rarest  art 

The  throbbings  of  their  common  heart? 

The  call  of  bird  upon  the  lea 

Is  music  full  of  ecstasy; 

The  whispering  of  the  rustling  wind 

Is  music  to  the  listening  mind; 

The  distant  roar  of  waterfall 

Is  music  meet  for  such  high  hall, — 


21] 


feongs    Jn   9£an? 


Where  arching  dome,  a  crystal  sphere, 
Resoundeth  ever  to  the  ear 
With  all  sweet  sounds  that  stir  the  heart, 
And  strength  and  God-like  grace  impart. 
The  word  that's  heard  on  grove  and  hill 
Possesses  power  thy  soul  to  fill: 
Then  let  us  join  the  hymn  of  praise 
Which  Nature's  children  all  upraise! 
Then  let  us  join  with  one  accord 
In  Nature's  hymn  unto  the  Lord ! 


MOUNTAIN  PINES— A  SONG. 

See  the  pine  trees  dark  above  you! 

Hear  the  west  wind's  harp  at  play ! 
When  the  ocean-child,  at  evening, 

Blows  t'ward  land, — the  fog-cloud  gray- 
When  the  mountain  forests  murmur, 

At  the  quiet  close  of  day. 


[22 


In   a^anp   Hep* 


Homeward  now  the  shag  is  flying, 
Piping  quail  has  ceased  his  note; 

When  the  light  has  turned  to  shadow 
Hush'd  is  every  songster's  throat, — 

When  around  the  pine-clad  summits 
Sea-born  cloud-banks  slowly  float. 

Soon  the  twilight  fades  to  darkness, 
Like  some  dim,  mysterious  cave, 

Lit  by  countless  gems  that  sparkle — 
Dark  the  silence  as  the  grave; 

But  the  pine  trees  keep  on  sighing, 
While  their  wind-toss 'd  branches  wave ! 


HOW  DAY  EXCELS   THE   NIGHT. 

The  stars  have  wondrous  beauty, 

The  night  is  very  fair; 
Yet  daylight  is  far  better, 

Because  the  sun  is  there! 
He  starts  the  world  to  singing 

And  brings  joy  everywhere! 

23] 


In 


My  heart  is  full  of  music 
When  th'  robin  in  the  tree 

Is  piping  forth  a  greeting, 
His  daybreak  melody; 

Across  the  fragrant  meadows, 
Life  sounds  a  jubilee! 

The  sun  ascends  in  glory, 
The  world  is  bathed  in  light  ; 

The  mountains  loom,  refulgent 
With  fields  of  snowy  white; 

The  wide  earth  sings  with  gladness, 
How  day  excels  the  night! 

Oh  music  of  the  morning! 

Oh  breaking  of  the  day! 
Oh  splendor  of  the  dawn-light! 

When  darkness  turns  to  gray  : 
Impart  to  me  your  grandeur 

And  I  shall  sing  alway! 


[24 


Jn 


DAYBREAK. 

The  leaden  East  is  lit  by  early  Dawn : 
First  pale,  then  bright,  upstreams  the  glow- 
ing light 

Of  rising  sun;  the  erstwhile  stars  withdrawn 
Have  vanish'd    with    the    gloomy    shades  of 
Night. 

The  birds  awaken'd  greet  approaching  Day; 

The  cock  starts  drumming  on  the  lowland  lea ; 
The  ghost-like  mists,  roird  silently  away, 

Soon  scatter,  leaving  verdant  meadows  free. 

The  spring  wind  rising,  bends  the  nodding  grass, 
And  draws  from  every  bush  JEolian  tones ; 

The  swift-wing'd  swallows  twitter  as  they  pass, 
The  brooklet  chatters  with  its  moss-grown 
stones. 


Jn   apanp   lugs* 


On    high    the    wild    goose    steers    an    outward 
course, 

Announcing  loudly  by  his  uncouth  cries 
His  near  approach,  while  huntsmen  in  the  gorse 

Await  with  loaded  guns  and  straining  eyes. 

Long  time,  ere  this,  the  lark  has  sought  the  sky, 
The  dull  earth  spurn'd,  his  late  despis'd  abode, 

And  whilst  his  matin  song  pours  forth,  his  eye 
Surveys  broad  fields  and  distant  winding  road. 

In  sheltered  yard  the  lowing  cattle  call; 

Melodious  songs  stir  with  the  rising  breeze : 
Like  chime  of  distant  murm'ring  waterfall 

Such  music  hath  strange  power  to  lull  and 
please. 

All  this  I  see,  these  things  half-dreaming  hear; 

The  Earth  hath  woke;  ev'n  drowsy,  lazy  man 
Hath  risen!  No  longer  tarry,  day  is  near; 

Shun  not  thy  'custom'd  work;  life's  but  a 
span! 

[26 


In 


AFTER  THE  STORM. 

The  storm  had  ceased, — a  flood  of  light 
Went  shimm'ring  'cross  the  lakes,  and  hills ; 
The  rain  had  pass'd, — a  thousand  rills 

Rolled  babbling  by  in  headlong  flight. 

The  mountains  flamed  with  gold  and  browns, 
Where  broken  grasses  knee-deep  lay; 
The  green  salal  and  pungent  bay 

Like  em'ralds  gleamed,  on  the  spreading  downs. 

Along  the  beach  the  white  sea  poured, 

And  wildly  beat  upon  the  sand; 

A  dream  of  peace  smiled  o'er  the  land, — 
But  the  sullen  ocean  hoarsely  roared! 


27] 


3n 


THE  SISKIYOUS. 

How  huge  the  bold  peaks  of  the  Siskiyou  moun- 
tains, 
Where  rearing  t'ward  heaven,  sheer  summits 

so  high! 
How  white    gleam    the    snows — all    those  cool, 

crystal  fountains, 

Whence  waters  come  tumbling  as  tho'  from 
the  sky. 

Hid  deep  in  the  gorges,  the  cataracts  roar, 

The  wild  music  sounding  of  ten  thousand  rills ; 
And  far  t'wards  the  summits,  so  covered  with 

hoar, 

The  long-needled  pines  chant  their  hymn  to 
the  hills. 

The  blue  of  the  sky,  as  it's  arched  overhead, 

Is  match'd  by  the  azure  that  purples  the  land ; 
The  view  of   such   colors,   tho'   painting  were 

dead 

Should    train    from    a    peasant    a    world's 
master-hand ! 

[28 


Jn    S^anp 


Translucently  clear,  and  resplendently  bright — 
Those  wide-stretching  rivers   of  ice   and  of 

snow ; 
Upon  their  broad  wastes,  in  the  Morn's  early 

light, 
Flash  colors  as  brilliant  as  iris-hued  bow. 

While    far   to    the    eastward   the    Shasta    peak 

stands, 

The  home  of  the  spirits,  the  Siskiyous'  dread ; 
And  off  to  the  westward,  in  Siskiyou  lands, 
The  chiefs  pitch  their  hutches,  near  Trinity 
Head. 

Then    hail    to    the    mountains,    the    Siskiyou 

Ranges, 
Where  hooded  in  snow  and  deep  tinted  with 

blue, 

Unmindful  of  Time  and  his  multiform  changes, 
These  giants   of  yore  rear  their  heads   into 
view! 

29] 


In   S^anp 


THE  REFORMER'S  CREED. 

If  the  world  should  scoff  at  you, 
Talk  and  chatter  at  your  ways, 
Mocking  at  your  so-called  "craze," 

Finding  fault  with  what  you  do: 

If  the  world  should  laugh  at  you, 
Criticise  the  Faith  you  hold — 
Faith  as  pure  as  furnace-gold — 

Shallow  mockers  are  not  few: 

If  the  gossips  of  the  town, 

Turn  to  speak  in  cold  derision 

Of  your  firm  and  just  decision, 
Not  to  let  your  Creed  go  down: 

Would  it  change  your  constant  plan? 

Change  your  faith  in  God  above? 

Change  your  trust  in  Truth  and  Love? 
Would  you  cease  your  work  for  Man? 

[30 


In   flMnj? 


LET   MY   PEOPLE   GO! 

Ye  who  plan  to  win  by  greed, 
Scorning  at  the  People's  need, 
Halting  not  at  means  and  ways; 
Fear  ye  not  the  coming  days? 
Let  my  People  go! 

Ye  who  seek  for  Place  and  Power, 
Plotting  evil  every  hour, 
Bribing  those — the  slaves  of  gold, 
Men  whose  souls  are  bought  and  sold- 
Let  my  People  go! 

Ye  who  forge  the  chains  of  steel, — 
Have  ye  hearts  that  throb  and  feel  ? 
Have  ye  ears?  Then  hear  that  sound 
As  its  thunders  shake  the  ground — 
Let  my  People  go! 

Old  Rameses  heard  that  cry, 
Saw  the  signs  with  scornful  eye; 
Pharaoh  heard  it,  but  too  late 
To  avert  his  dreadful  fate! 
Let  my  People  go! 


feongs    Jn    S$anp 


On  the  ranches,  in  the  field, 
See  how  Nature's  harvests  yield! 
Will  ye  rob  the  People's  grain? 
By  extortion  make  ye  gain? 
Let  my  People  go ! 

In  the  shops  the  toilers  sweat, 
Do  ye  think  such  men  forget? 
List  ye,  ere  ye  drink  your  fill, 
Hear  the  Ages  calling  shrill: 
Let  my  People  go! 

Thieves  who  loot  the  marts  of  Trade! 
Do  ye  think  this  world  was  made, 
Framed  to  give  freebooters  place, 
Room  to  grind  the  poor  man's  face? 
Let  my  People  go! 

Let  them  go!  'tis  I  who  call — 
I,  who  framed  this  world  for  all; 
To  my  People  everywhere 
I  will  grant  their  rightful  prayer: 
Let  my  People  go! 

[32 


In 


WHO  IS  MY  MASTER? 

Who  is  my  master?  —  Who,  I  say, 

Presumes  my  life  to  rule? 
Who  sets  the  bounds  to  hedge  my  way? 

Who  claims  me  for  Time's  fool? 

And  I,  a  man,  a  freeman  born! 

Am  I  to  bow  the  knee? 
You  think  I  quake  because  of  scorn  — 

Your  soul  was  never  free! 

Base  child  of  circumstance  and  fears! 

Vain  creature  of  dread  Fate  ! 
Live  on  —  aye,  grovel  thro'  the  years  — 

Afraid  to  go  or  wait! 

Who  is  my  master  ?  Do  you  ask  ? 

Think  you  I'll  live  a  slave, 
That  man's  opinions  set  my  task? 

Let  others  play  the  knave! 


33] 


&onff0   Jn   fi^an?   lug* 


I  am  free-born !    The  lash  of  Time 

May  fall  and  cut  or  mar; 
My  road  leads  on  to  heights  sublime 

I  follow  Faith's  clear  star! 


SAILING  ROOM  FOR  ALL. 

How  wide,  how  wide,  the  boundless  sea! 

How  far  the  course  from  shore  to  shore ! 
How  vast  is  all  eternity, — 

An  endless  road  forevermore! 

The   dome-like   sky  spreads  everywhere, — 
Unmeasured  depths  of  crystal  blue, 

An  all-surrounding  gulf  of  air, 
Where  Time  and  Space  seem  lost  to  view ! 

Ah,  yes,  and  many  ships  set  sail, 

And  spread  their  white  wings  to  the  breeze; 
And  dash  thro'  foam  with  freshening  gale; 

But  all  find  room  upon  Life's  seas! 

[34 


In 


DISCHARGING  A  DEBT. 

My  thanks  to  thee,  my  worthy  friend, 

That  thou  hadst  time  and  thought  to  lend 

To  one,  perchance,  who  feels  today 

A  debt  he  cannot  hope  to  pay; 

And  yet  he  knows  thy  gifts  are  given 

As  free  as  sunlight  streams  from  heaven! 

More  precious  than  the  yellow  gold, 
Or  wealth  which  India's  princes  hold, 
Thy  gifts  have  come  from  out  the  heart, 
And  of  thy  kindness  take  a  part : 
Enriching  both  thyself  and  me, — 
What  gifts,  than  such,  could  worthier  be? 


35] 


3n 


THE   VOYAGE   OF  LIFE. 

Whatever  comes,  receive  the  gift 

With  firm  and  tranquil  mind; 
Those  barks  are  lost  which  idly  drift 

The  prey  of  ev'ry  wind. 

The  compass  is  a  man's  best  friend 

When  on  the  boisterous  sea; 
Belief  in  Good  as  life's  true  end 

Will  be  such  friend  to  thee. 

The  faith  that  strongly  looks  to  Him 

Who  rules  the  mighty  deep, 
No  cloud-like  doubts  his  course  shall  dim, 

No  storms  such  bark  o'ersweep. 

Who  is  it  falters  at  the  gate, 

Nor  dares  to  put  to  sea  ? 
Why  longer  in  the  harbor  wait  ? 

Since  God  will  pilot  thee. 


[36 


In 


LOVE'S  CHAIN. 

The  sky  is  bright  in  cloudless  June, 
When  ech'ing  to  the  lark's  wild  tune; 
As  lovely  bright  thy  face  to  me, 
Thy  love,  who  madly  worships  thee. 

The  rose  is  fair  in  early  May, 
That  spreads  its  colors  to  the  day; 
So  fair  thy  laughing  lips  to  see — 
Those  lips  that  speak  such  sympathy. 

The  cloud-cast  sky  is  dark  at  night, 
When  moon  and  stars  obscure  their  light ; 
How  black  thy  flashing  eye,  and  dark! 
I  tremble,  when  its  frown  I  mark. 

But  when  with  words  of  sweetest  grace, 
Thou  turn'st  on  me  a  lover's  face, 
My  trembling  heart  fresh  hope  regains, 
And  Life  grows  joyous,  'neath  Love's  chains. 

37] 


Jn 


TO  A  DEPARTING  FRIEND. 

I  dreamt  of  thee  today,  love, 

I  dreamt  of  thee,  today; 
The  sun  shone  bright  they  say,  love, 

But  my  thoughts  were  far  away! 

His  beams  I  could  not  see,  love, 

For  I  only  thought  of  thee; 
How  my  heart  grew  light  and  free,  love, 

When  thou  cam'st  to  dwell  with  me! 

Yes,  the  memory  is  sweet,  love, 

Tho'  never  more  we  meet; 
In  my  inmost  heart's  retreat,  love, 

Thy  image  dwells  complete. 

It  may  be  for  the  best,  love, 

That  my  heart  should  feel  unrest, 

But  I'll  hold,  tho'  sore  distressed,  love, 
Thy  image  as  my  guest. 

[38 


&ons0   In   $j)ang   Jktv& 

GOLDEN  GATES. 

(Tune,  Golden  Gates.) 
Chorus: 
Outward,  outward,  thro'  the  gate, 

Portal  to  the  sunset  sea; 
Fairest  breezes  on  us  wait, 
God  our  pilot  be ! 

Outward,  outward,  'cross  the  bar, 

Sweeps  our  ship  with  spreading  sails, 

Making  for  her  port  afar, 
Hoping  prosperous  gales. 

Let  the  winds  and  tempests  blow! 

Stout's  the  ship  that  carries  me, 
Sailing,  sailing  as  we  go, 

O'er  the  sunset  sea. 

Outward,  outward,  t'wards  the  west, 
Tossing  on  the  heaving  deep, 

Riches,  honors,  are  the  quest, 
As  we  onward  sweep. 

391 


Jn 


Some  set  sail  to  win  renown, 
Some  seek  love — a  golden  prize; 

In  the  deep  the  Past  we'll  drown — 
Fair  are  sunset  skies. 

Hoist  the  sails,  the  canvas  spread! 

Turn  the  prow  to  seek  the  West! 
Let  the  vacant  Past  lie  dead ! 

Days  to  come  are  best! 

Ev'ry  night  the  stars  will  shine; 

Ev'ry  morn  a  sunrise  brings, 
Leave  the  dregs  and  drink  the  wine,- 

Life  with  laughter  rings. 

Chorus: 
Outward,  outward,  thro'  the  gate, 

Portal  to  the  sunset  sea; 
Fairest  breezes  on  us  wait, 
God  our  pilot  be ! 


[40 


In 


DINING  A  FRIEND. 
I. 

THE   INVITATION. 

An  English  roast,  a  pot  of  tea, 

And  bread  and  fruit — it  seems  to  me 

That's  quite  enough  to  load  a  table, 
To  show  true  hospitality; 

We  greet  our  friends  as  we  are  able ! 

And  quip,  and  joke,  and  happy  thought, 
Tis  known  quite  well  cannot  be  bought, — 

We  always  serve  'em  with  our  meat — 
They  aid  digestion,  so  we're  taught, 

And  make  plain  food  taste  rich  and  sweet. 

So  if  you  come  to  visit  town 

We'll  try  right  hard  to  please  you,  Brown; 

One  much  prefers  a  place  that's  cheery 
To  city  taverns  of  renown; 

Without  good  sauce  a  meal  grows  dreary ! 

41] 


In 


II. 

THE  MENU. 

To  save  a  bit  of  argument, 
We  will  admit  that  time's  well  spent 
In  cutting  roasts  and  munching  bread  — 
Like  animals,  man  must  be  fed,  — 
And  having  feasted  feels  content. 

With  patent  sauces'  eager  fire, 
We  would  be  loath  our  friends  to  tire,  — 
You  "do  not  like  such  'knock-me-downs  ?'  " 
Your  choice  does  credit  to  the  Browns,  — 
Plain,  simple  tastes  most  men  admire. 

Nor  have  we  yet  been  much  impressed, 
With  need  of  music  for  our  guest, 
Or  that  the  din  of  horns  and  bones 
Should  drown  melodious  human-tones, 
And  wit  and  laughter  be  suppressed. 


[42 


In   Q^anp 


But  when  the  amber  tea  is  pour'd, 
We  hope  you'll  share  your  ample  hoard 
Of  jokes  and  stories,  full  of  zest; 
Be  sure  and  serve  us  with  your  best — 
Our  merry  laugh  your  rich  reward! 

III. 

» 

TABLE-TALK. 

"The  times  are  out  of  joint,"  you  say? 

Why,  Brown,  your  indigestion's  bad; 
You  let  your  stomach  have  its  way 

Too  much,  and  so  your  thoughts  are  sad. 
I  hope  you'll  pardon  the  intrusion, 
No  harm  is  meant  by  such  allusion. 

But  we'll  not  spend  the  hour  tonight 
In  talking  of  the  Things  That  Are, 

But  of  the  Has-Beens'  distant  flight— 
The  twinkle  of  our  boyhood's  star : 

The  days  when  appetite  was  ruddy 

And  sounds  of  nature  were  our  study. 

43] 


feongs    In   S£anp 


In  summer-time  the  cat-bird's  call 
Would  mock  us  from  the  thicket's  gloom ; 

The  squirrel  in  the  yellow  fall 

Would  hide  within  his  hollow  room, 

And  scold  to  see  two  boys  come  gunning, 

Disturbing  rodents  from  their  sunning. 

Then  on  the  landscape  fell  the  snow, 

A  magic  winding-sheet  of  white ; 
And  wondrous  drifts  began  to  grow, 

By  elfish  hands  reared  in  a  night, — 
The  work  so  skillfully  attended 
No  Eastern  mosque  ere  loom'd  more  splendid. 

I  think,  friend  Brown,  you  will  recall 

The  glory  of  that  rising  sun : 
When  thro*  the  snow-deck'd  forest-hall, 

His  frosty  beams  a  road  had  won ; 
When  God  such  beauty  was  bestowing 
That  every  bough  with  gems  was  glowing. 


[44 


&onff0    In    Sl^anp   Hep* 


Now,  take  another  cup  of  tea, 

While  we  draw  round  that  evening  fire, 
Where  in  our  thoughts  we  seem  to  be 

Watching  the  glowing  coals  expire, 
The  sweet  and   luscious   cider   drinking, — 
Of  such  a  scene  who  could  help  thinking! 


DARK  IS  THE  STORM-CLOUD. 

Dark  is  the  storm-cloud,  when  driven  on  high 
Over  the  dank  and  the  desolate  plain ; 
Cold  falls  the  down-dripping  rain : 

Tempest  and   storm — then   God's  peace   in  the 

sky !  >     »  .  ' 

After  the  tempest  there  cometh  a  calm, 
After  the  wind  and  the  rain  there  is  rest; 
That  which  day  bringeth  is  best : 

Tears  portend  laughter,  and  life  is  a  psalm ! 

45] 


In   apanp 


After  the  tempest  the  lake  sleeps  in  peace ; 

Bright  are  the  beams  of  the  great  ruddy  sun ; 

Clouds  flee  away,  one  by  one : 
After  the  tempest  our  troubles  shall  cease! 


LIFE  IS  BEAUTIFUL. 

After  all  is  said  and  done, 
Battles  lost  and  battles  won ; 
After  all  our  care  and  sorrow, 
Steps  beset  by  ills  we  borrow ; 
Still  we  cry,  amid  the  strife, 
"Oh,  how  beautiful  is  life!" 

Life  is  fair  to  look  upon, 
Be  the  battle  lost  or  won ; 
For  we  know,  if  we  have  fought 
As  courageous  soldiers  ought: 
Ours  is  not  the  task  to  say 
Who  shall  triumph  in  the  fray. 

[46 


In 


FLAG   OF   OUR   FATHERS. 

(A    NATIONAL   SONG.) 

Chorus: 

The  flag  of  our  fathers !  The  flag  of  the  free ! 
Your  stars  in  their  beauty,  how  glorious  to 

see! 
Praise  the  God  who  hath  promised  beneath 

your  bright  folds, 
All  the  hopes  and  the  grandeur  the  fair 

Future  holds ! 

Thro'  the  gloom  of  the  night,  like  a  star  in  the 

sky, 

How  our  banner  of  light  floated  proudly  on  high ! 
When  the  hoarse  roar  of  battle  came  surging 

around, 
Then  our  flag,  in  the  van,  led  the  charge  o'er  the 

ground ! 


47] 


Jn 


With    a    song    of    rejoicing    our    soldier-boys 

come, — 
They  are  sounding  their  triumph  with  fife  and 

with  drum. 
In  the  camp  and  the  field  they  no  longer  will 

roam! 
They  have  brought  back  the  flag  of  their  country 

and  home! 

Now  the  sun  once  again  sheds  his  beams  on  our 

land, 
And  we  know  that  the  day  of  the  Lord  is  at 

hand! 

He  is  leading  His  people,  oh,  be  not  dismayed! 
Both  in  peace  and  in  battle  our  Lord  giveth  aid. 

As  we  triumphed  in  war,  let  us  triumph  in  peace ! 
As  the  ages  roll  onward  let  freedom  increase ! 
With  the  coming  of  day  let  us  welcome  the  light ! 
Let  us  rear  up  a  people  for  God  and  the  right! 


[48 


In   apang 


Chorus: 

The  flag  of  our  fathers !  The  flag  of  the  free ! 
Your  stars  in  their  beauty,  how  glorious  to 

see! 
Praise  the  God  who  hath  promised  beneath 

your  bright  folds, 
All  the  hopes  and  the  grandeur  the  fair 

Future  holds! 


COURAGE. 

% 

Should  you  hear  a  tempest  roar, 

Hear  hoarse  waves  along  Life's  shore 
Bellowing  fiercely  when  they  reach  the  rocky 
strand : 

Calmly  view  the  tumult  loud ; 

Never  fear  the  angry  crowd, 
When  your  feet  are  planted  on  the  solid  land. 


491 


In 


Turn  your  gaze  to  watch  the  sky, 

Watch  the  beacons  as  they  fly 
Lighting  up  the  darkness  with  a  wondrous  flare : 

Bright  as  gleams  the  lightning's  flash — 

Ere  resounds  the  thunder's  crash — 
Are  the  signs  which  hurtle  thro'  the  threatening 
air. 

Mighty  is  the  Cause  of  Right; 

Truth  and  Honor  through  the  night 
Like  a  beacon  light  the  land  and  angry  sea : 

Duty  guides  you  on  your  way, 

Soon  you'll  greet  the  coming  day, — 
Oh,  the  strength  of  him  whose  soul  is  ever  free! 


[50 


3Jn 


LINES   WRITTEN   AT  THE  DEATH   OF 
WILLIAM    McKINLEY. 

The    earth    seems    hush'd    in    blackest    gloom! 
The  martyred  hero — he  who  died 
At  Duty's  post — his  country's  pride — 

Will  soon  be  resting  'neath  the  tomb. 

"Good-bye,  good-bye  to  all!"  he  said. 
These  latest  words,  we  hear  them  still, 
Marked  by  submission  to  that  will, 

Which  all  thro'  life  his  way  had  led. 

But  ah !  that  chant — his  last  farewell : 
"Nearer,  my  God,  to  Thee,"  he  sighs, 
And  hymns  that  prayer  before  he  dies, 

A  song  on  which  ev'n  angels  dwell! 

The  thought  of  that  last  scene  on  earth 
Must  touch  the  common  heart  of  man, 
Respondent,  since  the  world  began, 

To  all  that  makes  for  God-like  worth. 


on  s0    Jn    £$  anp    &  *  P  0 


All  honor  for  his  constant  strife 

To  do  what  to  him  seemed  the  right; 
His  toils  unceasing,  day  and  night, 

To  lead  men  to  a  higher  life! 


A    DIRGE. 

The  blood-red  rays  of  setting  sun, 
Shone  on  the  dead; 
There  had  they  fallen,  one  by  one — 
Those  corses  red! 

Beneath  the  stars  and  midnight's  gloom- 
Cold,  lifeless  forms — 
How  still  they  lie,  without  a  tomb : 
Strange  prey  for  storms ! 


[52 


Bn 


HOPE. 

Beside  a  grave  a  cypress-tree, 

A  marble  column  at  its  head : 

These  are  the  signs  which  mark  the  dead,- 
Sad  emblems  of  mortality ! 

With  tear-stained  eyes  I  stood  and  gazed 
Upon  that  mouldering  clod  of  earth; 
Nor  thought  I  of  that  glorious  birth 

Attained  by  those  whom  God  hath  raised. 

But  when  I  upward  turned  my  eyes, 
Down  thro'  those  mournful  cypress-trees, 
Which  sadly  sighed  with  every  breeze, 

The  stars  were  shining  from  clear  skies! 


531 


Jn   Sl^anp 


SONG  — IN  THE   MEADOWS. 

If  you  were  in  the  meadows  late, 
When  evening  dews  were  falling, 
When  whistling  thrush  was  calling — 

A  song  to  please  his  nesting  mate: 
Dews  fast  falling,  thrushes  calling — 

While  the  hour  was  wearing  late: 

If  you  have  plucked  the  scented  rose, 

And  dainty  cowslip  yellow, 

Amid  the  marshes  mellow — 
No  sweeter  flowers  Dame  Nature  grows : 

Cowslips  yellow,  marshes  mellow, 
And  the  scented,  sweet-briar  rose : 

If  you  have  seen  fair  Venus'  star, 

Low  in  the  west  still  twinkling, 

Yet  slowly,  slowly  sinking — 
Still  beaming  as  it  sets  afar: 

Downward   sinking,   gleaming,   twinkling, 
Sets  the  glorious  evening-star: 

[54 


Jn   Stpanp   lug* 


Then,  oh  then,  you  thought,  I  know, 
Of  him  whose  heart  was  yearning, 
And  ever  homeward  turning — 

Who  dream'd  of  you,  'mid  evening's  glow! 
Homeward  turning,  longing,  yearning — 

Who  dream'd  of  you,  'mid  evening's  glow! 

THE    RECONCILIATION. 

Of  all  the  hours  I  ever  spent, 

Those  hours  I  hold  most  dear, 
When  One  her  gracious  presence  lent, — 

Who  now  no  more  is  near! 
I  call'd  her  Sweetheart,  press'd  her  cheek 

With  many  a  tender  kiss ; 
But  time  forbids  that  Name  to  speak, 

And  mocks  at  youthful  bliss! 

And  yet  I  can  no  more  forget 

When  Love  first  cross'd  my  way, 

Than  morning-rose  her  leaves  to  wet, 

Or  sun  to  light  the  day ! 
55] 


I  caird  her  Sweetheart — youthful  dreams! 

Doom'd  like  the  day  to  die! — 
And  yet  those  lingering  sunset-beams 

Still  light  my  evening  sky! 

I  call'd  her  Sweetheart  then,  and  yet  — 

Thro'  all  these  stormy  years, 
That  face  I  can  no  more  forget 

Than  Time  can  dry  Love's  tears, — 
Tears  not  of  grief,  but  tender,  deep, 

Rich  treasures  of  the  Past ! — 
A  vision!  let  the  fond  heart  weep! 

My  old  Sweetheart  at  last! 

LINES  TO  A  YOUNG  URCHIN. 

Young   urchin,   toddlin'    with   uncertain   gait 

Along  the  street, 
Be  careful  of  your  steps,  or  soon  or  late, 

Mischance,  you'll  meet 
Such  sights  as  terrify  the  grown-up  race — 
Be  careful,  man'kin!    with  your  toddlin'  pace! 

F56 


In 


The  big,  black  dogs  that  love  to  congregate 

Beside  the  road, 
Are  prone  by  nature  to  investigate 

A  stagg'ring  load, 

Such  as  your  wicker-basket  bears  within : 
To  ease  its  weight  a  bit  they  hold  no  sin ! 

Or  if  some  bigger  lad,  with  hungry  maw, 

Begins  to  pry 
Among  the  paper  parcels,  spite  of  law, 

You  must  not  cry, — 

But  show  your  mettle,  lad!    defend  your  right! 
I  would  be  loath  to  see  you  turn  in  flight ! 

Why,  legs  so  short  were  scarcely  framed  to  run ! 

Such  sturdy  shanks! 
A  chubby  lad  like  you  thrives  best  on  fun 

And  boyish  pranks ! 

And  yet  you'll  not  have  many  years  to  wait 
For  manly  step,  instead  of  toddlin'  gait ! 


57] 


feongs   Jn   fitpanp 


TO   A   CHILD. 

To  mortals  is  it  seldom  given, 

To  see  a  sight  so  rare: 
Such  love  and  sweet  simplicity, 

In  one  so  truly  fair! 

Ah,  how  shall  erring  human  pen, 
Describe  such  gentle  grace? 

Or  how  shall  empty  words  avail 
To  paint  an  angel's  face! 

Then  do  not  marvel  at  the  art 
Which  tells  of  fairy  ways ; 

Once  seen,  no  mortal  could  resist 
To  sing  her  worth  and  praise. 

Dear  child,  you  cannot  understand 
The  devious  ways  of  earth, — 

Nor  need  you,  if  you  seek  alone, 
Things  of  noblest  worth. 


In 


SONGS  THAT  MOTHER  USED  TO  SING. 

A  tear  or  smile,  whichever  it  be, 
Fond  thoughts  unbidden,  rouse  in  me, 
And  summon  back  from  bygone  days 
The  scenes  long  lost  in  childhood's  maze, 
While  in  my  ear  there  seem  to  ring 
The  songs  which  mother  used  to  sing! 

Ah,  yes,  'twas  in  the  evening-glow, 
When  ruddy  sun,  then  sinking  low, 
Cast  on  the  sky  a  fading  light 
And  bade  to  earth  a  long  good-night ! 
We  children  round  her  knee  would  cling 
To  hear  that  voice  angelic  sing. 

Those  simple  lays,  like  words  of  prayer, 
Could  waft  away  each  childish  care; 
Such  doubts  or  fears  as  flecked  the  day 
Soon  like  a  shadow  stole  away: — 
What  joy  that  hour  could  always  bring 
When  mother's  voice  began  to  sing. 

59} 


"Hush,  hush,  my  dears!  in  slumber  lie, 
For  angels  bright  are  watching  nigh !  " 
Pure  songs  of  childhood,  all  too  fleet ! 
That  made  our  evening-hour  so  sweet! 
Tonight  I  hear  them  echoing, 
Those  songs  which  mother  used  to  sing! 

We're  scattered  now  thro'  many  lands, 
In  mountains,  plains,  by  ocean's  sands, — 
And  yet  that  distant  home  draws  near 
And  from  the  Past  I  know  I  hear 
Those  songs,  in  tender  accents  ring, — 
I  hear  again  my  mother  sing! 

GOOD-BYE. 

The  time  has  come  to  say  "good-bye ! " 
As  friends  we've  met,  as  friends  we  part ; 

Yet  pray  repress  the  mournful  sigh — 
The  witness  of  a  heavy  heart, — 

"Good-bye,  good-bye!" — a  solemn  word: 

Would  that  its  tones  might  ne'er  be  heard ! 

[60 


In   S^anp 


We  met  as  friends  upon  life's  way, 
We've  pass'd  how  many  pleasing  hours, 

And  as  each  day  succeeded  day 

We've  gather'd  friendship's  fadeless  flowers : 

But  now  "good-bye !  " — that  oft-spoke  word, 

One  which  we  vainly  wish  deferred ! 

The  lad  who  left  the  family  home, 

Who  kiss'd  a  mother's  tear-stained  face, 

Then  turned  away  afar  to  roam, 
Can  still  recall  the  tender  grace 

With  which  she  spoke  the  last  "good-bye!"— 

A  word  her  lips  should  sanctify ! 

"Good-bye,  good-bye !  " — on  ev'ry  hand 
We  hear  fond  lips  repeat  the  phrase : 

Love,  Youth,  Old  Age,  life's  motley  band 
All  say  "good-bye"  with  downcast  gaze: 

And  yet  "good-bye"  may  ope  the  door 

Where  we  need  speak  that  word  no  more ! 


61] 


In   Sl^an?    lie 


SHOSHONE  CRADLE  SONG. 


An  Indian  babe  should  make  no  cry: 
Who  knows  what  foe  is  lurking  nigh! 
Who  knows  what  foe  is  lurking  nigh! 

Hush  !  hush  !  my  child,  sh  —  do  not  cry  ! 

The  Darkness  will  not  hurt  thee  : 
The  Moon  is  rising  in  the  sky, 
The  yellow  Moon  is  rising  high,— 

Come,  Indian  baby,  come  and  see  ! 

Be  still,  my  child,  and  have  no  fear! 

The  Shadows  will  not  harm  thee  : 
Some  hooting  owl  is  drawing  near, 
Tis  but  his  chatter  that  we  hear,  — 

Come,  Shoshone  baby,  come  to  me  ! 

The  night  is  chill,  the  Moon  is  cold  ! 

The  wigwam-fire  will  warm  thee  : 
Then  come,  my  child,  let  owlets  scold  ; 
Some  day  thou  'ilt  be  a  warrior  bold,  — 

No  Shadows  then  will  make  thee  flee! 

[62 


In 


An  Indian  babe  should  make  no  cry : 
Who  knows  what  foe  is  lurking  nigh! 
Who  knows  what  foe  is  lurking  nigh! 


THE  LOVER'S  DREAM. 

How  sweet,  in  cool  and  twilight  air, 
To  see  a  maid  with  sable  hair, 
With  winsome  grace,  with  starry  eyes, 
Which  thrill  the  heart  with  glad  surprise. 

With  glad  surprise  we  feel  the  charm — 
The  love  which  gushes  full  and  warm; 
That  fills  the  breast  with  longings  sweet, 
And  draws  two  hearts  as  one  to  beat. 

The  liquid  trill  of  nightingale 
Is  music  meet  for  moonlight  pale; 
While  all  our  chords  of  being  know 
The  fatal  shafts  from  Cupid's  bow. 

63] 


feongs    In   a^anp   T&tp* 


RAIN   IN  CALIFORNIA. 

Listen  to  the  falling  rain, 
Dashing,  splashing  to  the  ground, 
With  its  cool,  refreshing  sound 

Dripping  on  the  leaves  again! 

All  the  hills  so  dry  and  sere ; 

Parched  and  brown  the  fields  of  brakes; 
But  the  falling  water  makes 

Transformation  in  the  year! 

******** 

Thus  Nature  works  her  marvelous  change, 
From  colors  dark  to  richest  hue 
As  rare  as  heaven's  ethereal  blue, 

Each  year  repeated,  but  as  strange. 

For  gentle  rains  refresh  the  strand, 
Beside  the  blue  Pacific's  shore, 
When  Autumn  visits  here  once  more, 

Transmuting  all  the  golden  land ! 


In   Slpanp 


A    HARVEST    SONG. 


Voice: 

"Sing  the  song  of  golden  grain! 
Sing  a  song  of  gathered  sheaves  I 
Sing  of  frost  —  of  dying  leaves  — 

Sing  of  clouds,  of  coming  rain  !  " 

Second  Voice: 
"Who  hath  planted  herb  and  tree? 

Who  hath  mixed  the  hoar-frost's  dye  ? 

Gathered  rain-clouds  in  the  sky? 
Scattered  flowers  on  wold  and  lea?" 

Third  Voice: 
"Who  hath  ripened  seas  of  grain? 

Calling  workers  to  the  field 

Ready  to  the  sickle  yield  — 
Held  in  check  the  blighting  rain  ?  " 


65] 


In   S$ang 


Voice: 
"Hard  the  task  to  sing  of  Man; 

Fields  of  grain  and  gathered  sheaves ; 

Rain-clouds  dark  or  faded  leaves — 
Save  we  speak  of  Nature's  plan !  " 

Chorus: 
"God  of  Nature !   tell  to  me 

Something  of  Thy  wondrous  ways ; 

All  the  earth  proclaims  Thy  praise ; 
How  I  long  to  learn  of  Thee !  " 


THE  BELFRY  CLOCK. 

The  dreamer  lies  by  sleep  oppressed, 
Tho'  Noon  is  hurrying  on  her  hour  ; 

List  —  the  tolling  bell's  protest 
On  high,  in  belfry  tower. 


[66 


In 


One  —  hear  the  summons  deep  ! 

Wake  !  ere  that  voice  has  gone  ! 
What?  —  will  the  sluggard  idly  sleep 

While  Time  is  rushing  on  ? 
Two  —  three  —  four  —  five  — 

Loud  and  clear  strike  warning  chimes  ! 
How  the  air  those  echoes  rive  !  — 

Awake  and  stir  betimes! 

Six  —  seven  —  eight  —  nine  — 

Sound  yon  bell  with  all  its  power! 
Rouse  the  sleeper,  Lord  Divine, 

To  meet  Thy  approaching  hour! 
Ten  !  —  no,  he  only  moans, 

Tho'  the  bell  is  ringing  clear; 
Eleven  !  —  solemn  warning  tones  !  — 

And  yet  he  will  not  hear  ! 

Twelve  !  —  the  fateful  hour  has  pass'd  ! 

Ah,  Time,  alas,  you  could  not  wait  ! 
The  sluggard  still  is  sleeping  fast  — 

Too  late!    too  late!    too  late! 


671 


Jn 


THE    VOICE    OF    THE    BATTLE. 

In  the  clash  of  the  steel,  in  the  battle-array, 

In  the  clatter  of  hoofs  and  the  horses'  mad  neigh, 

In  the  rush  of  the  charge,  'tis  rare  music  we 


Oh,  the  conflict's  hoarse  roar  to  a  soldier  is  dear  ! 

Hark  the  boom  of  the  guns  and  the  roll  of  the 

drum, 
Telling  loud  to  the  hosts  Death's  wild  legions 

have  come  ! 
See  Him  ride  wide  a-field,  with  His  keen  saber 

bare,  — 
Hear  the  shrieks  of  the  lost,  wildly  rending  the 

air! 

Then  oh  1—  and  still  onward  our  course  let  us 

urge 
In  the  swefep  of  the  charge  to  the  fierce  battle's 

verge:    -'. 

[68 


o  n  g  0    In    S$  a  n  p 


Come  the  legions  of  Death!  who  will  put  us  to 

flight ! 
Oh,  the  voice  of  the  battle!    'tis  the  soldier's 

delight ! 


TOLERATION. 

"Forbid  him  not/'  Christ  saith  to  thee; 
"No  man  can  lightly  speak  of  me 
"Who  in  my  name  shall  wonders  do — 
"The  harvest's  great,  the  lab'rers  few : 
"Forbid  him  not!  Forbid  him  not!  " 

The  cup  of  water  may  be  small 
To  proffer  to  the  Lord  of  All : 
And  yet  the  Master  let  us  know 
Such  gift  will  not  unheeded  go: 

"Forbid  him  not !  Forbid  him  not ! " 

69] 


Jn    9£ani?   Heps 


The  faith  that  falters  sore  oppressed 
With  doubts  if  such  deeds  can  be  blest, 
Should  gain  new  insight  from  the  Word 
When  Jesus'  kindly  voice  is  heard : 

"Forbid  him  not !  Forbid  him  not !  " 


WHEN   THOU  ART   NEAR. 
(Tune,  "When  Thou  Art  Near.") 

When  Thou  art  near  I  shall  not  fear  the  night ! — 

Thou  givest  rest ! 
Thy  yoke  is  easy  and  Thy  burden  is  light ! — 

Thy  way  is  best ! 

In  life,  in  death,  O  Risen  Christ,  I  pray 
Vouchsafe  Thy  peace,  that  passeth  not  away! 

The  road  of  life  ofttimes  is  very  dark, 

And  storm  oppressed; 
I  look  in  vain  for  light,  but  fail  to  mark 

The  Place  of  Rest,— 

[70 


In 


Until,  until  I  seek  for  Thee,  and  find 
The  Power  that  rules  the  waves  and  boisterous 
wind. 

Tho'  hard  and  heavy  seems  the  chastening  hand, 

Upon  me  press'd, 
I  turn  thro'  faith  to  Thee,  and  understand 

With  God  is  rest! 

Help,  Master,  help  my  feeble  faith  to  see 
How  all-sustaining  Love  protecteth  me! 

Guide,  Master,  guide  me,  lest  I  go  astray, — 

Thou  knowest  best: 
For  Thou  to  man  hast  shown  the  Perfect  Way 

To  God  and  Rest! 

However  far  my  erring  footsteps  roam 
I'll  find  thro'  Thee,  at  last,  sweet  Rest  and  Home! 


&ons0    Jn    S^anp    Tdtys 


HOW    FIRM    OF    HEART,    HOW 

UNDISMAYED! 

(Tune  "Bera.") 

How  firm  of  heart,  how  undismayed, 
Who  on  the  Lord  his  trust  hath  stayed: 
Thro*  every  ill  he  goes  secure, 
From  doubt  and  fears  he  liveth  free, 
No  foe  his  onset  dare  endure, — 
Since  God  will  his  Defender  be ! 

What  broad  foundations  are  those  made, 
That  on  the  Rock  of  Truth  are  laid : 
The  winds  may  drive,  the  rains  may  fall  ; 
Creeds,  dogmas,  doctrines  shift  like  sand; 
Yet  Truth  endureth  thro'  it  all, 
For  Truth  is  God's  Almighty  Hand ! 

How  strong  that  hope  and  full  of  cheer, 
Which  sees  how  God  is  ever  near : 
For  tho'  he  lights  the  sun  above, 
And  stars  and  systems  have  His  care, 
The  smallest  creature  shares  His  love, — 
His  Guardian-power  is  everywhere ! 

[72 


In 


THE  UNIVERSAL  PRAYER. 

Our  God,  our  Father  Thou,  who  art  in  heav'n, 
Unto  Thy  holy  Name  be  all  praise  giv'n ; 
Thy  glorious  kingdom  come  to  us  today, 
Thy  blessed  will  be  done  'mong  men  alway, 
Throughout  the  earth  as  in  the  heav'ns  on  high ; 
This  day,  as  ever,  hear  the  hungered  cry — 
And  feed  with  Israel's  manna  from  the  sky ; 
As  we  forgive,  on  us  Thy  grace  bestow ! 
When  near  temptation's  awful  pit  we  go, 
Oh  let  Thy  child  God's  strong  deliv'rance  know ; 
For  Thine  the  kingdom  is,  Almighty  Love ! 
All  power  Thine,  on  earth,  in  realms  above ; 
Thy  glory,  passing  human  speech  to  tell, 
Forever  and  forever  here  doth  dwell: 

Thy  Love  Divine  bespeaks  a  Father's  care ; 
Thy  blessings  flow  ere  we  can  frame  a  prayer ! 
So,  with  pure,  child-like  faith  we  call  to  Thee 
And  trust  today  Thy  All-Sufficiency ! 

73] 


In 


FOR    AGES    AND    FOR    AGES. 

For  ages  and  for  ages 

The  mystery  lay  concealed, 
Until  in  gospel  pages 

The  Truth  had  been  revealed; 
Here  man  first  learned  the  story 

Of  God's  surpassing  love, 
In  sending  down  from  glory 

The  Lord  Christ  from  above. 

The  cross  which  Paul  was  preaching 

Was  raised  for  every  man, 
A  reconcilement  teaching, 

To  God's  eternal  plan ; 
His  child  so  sadly  sinning, 

Now  leaves  its  evil  ways, 
For  boundless  love  is  winning, 

All  earth  to  sing  His  praise! 


[74 


In 


TRAVELLERS. 

I. 

The  Light  which  streams  from  ancient  days 
Displays  its  beams  to  guide  man's  feet : 
With  joy  how  travellers  thrill  to  meet 
The  rays  which  rive  the  darkened  maze, 
And  lead  their  steps  thro'  pathways  plain, — 
Else  had  the  struggle  been  in  vain ! 

II. 

As  on  a  journey  one  looks  back 
And  marvels  at  the  winding  road 
His  feet  have  press'd  with  weary  load ; 
And  still  ahead  he  sees  the  track 
Go  coiling  round  the  mountain-height, 
And  halts  in  wonder  at  the  sight : 


75] 


Jn   flip  an?   Hep* 


in. 

So  have  I  stood,  entranc'd  to  see 
The  Past  close  linked  to  what  is  now ; 
Ev'n  as  the  green  and  spreading  bough 
Springs  from  the  trunk  of  parent  tree ; 
So  is  the  road  we  travel  on: 
Behind,  ahead,  it  all  is  one. 

IV. 

The  God  who  formed  this  wondrous  earth 
Is  very  good ;  He  works  thro'  Love 
And  binds  us  to  Him  from  above 
With  chains  of  golden,  priceless  worth : 
Nor  can  we  stray  beyond  His  care, 
A  Guardian-Power  felt  everywhere. 

V. 

For  when  thy  soul  had  ceased  to  pray, 
And  lips  were  dumb  with  silentness, 
Did  He  who  made  thee  cease  to  bless, 
Or  send  thee  empty  on  thy  way? 
The  Heart  that  framed  the  sum  of  all 
Can  even  mark  the  sparrow's  fall. 

[76 


In    S^anp 


VI. 

Life's  road  looks  dark;  we  make  it  so: 
We  stumble  on  with  blinded  eye, 
Tho'  near  at  hand  that  Pow'r  stands  by 
To  grant  release  from  earth-born  woe : 
Yes,  even  heaven  lies  close  at  hand, 
And  not  in  some  far-distant  land ! 

VII. 

In  grief,  in  tears,  we  mourn  the  loss 
Of  one  held  dear  as  life  itself, — 
A  little  child,  a  tender  elf, — 
And  bear  its  absence  as  life's  cross : 
A  thing  so  hard  to  understand, 
Supposed  to  come  by  Love's  command ! 

VIII. 

Yet  I  cannot  be  brought  to  feel 
That  Love  sends  evil  unto  man, 
Or  that  'tis  writ  in  God's  great  plan 
To  give  His  children  aught  but  weal : 
So  much  exists  not  understood, 
And  seeming  evil  turns  to  good. 

77] 


In    Stpanp 


IX. 

We  much  distort  the  things  we  see, 
And  build  up  evil  in  our  thought, 
Until  the  mind  itself  has  wrought 
A  monstrous  thing  from  fantasy : 
When,  out  of  nothingness,  there  stands 
A  horrid  shape  with  clutching  hands ! 

X. 

Alas  for  those  who  fail  to  raise 
Their  eyes  from  earth  to  God  above ; 
Could  they  but  know  that  God  is  love 
How  soon  their  lips  would  speak  His  praise : 
And  bless  His  all-abounding  grace, — 
Could  they  but  see  a  Father's  face ! 

XI. 

The  blade  of  grass  beneath  thy  feet 
In  humble  beauty  holds  its  place, 
Mere  strip  of  green,  yet  full  of  grace, 
But  not  less  useful  than  the  larger  wheat : 
The  lesson  of  its  speech-tied  tongue 
Is  full  as  noble,  tho'  unsung. 

[78 


In 


XII. 

Some  measure  by  a  common  rule 

The  orbit  of  the  planet  Mars, 

And  all  the  clustering  hosts  of  stars, — 

Like  that  once  show'd  them  when  at  school ! 

Nor  do  they  grasp  the  broader  thought 

Which  Science  to  the  world  hath  brought. 

XIII. 

Yet  telescope  cannot  disclose 
The  life  that  lurks  within  the  seed ; 
Where  some  see  nothing  but  a  weed, 
There  others  watch  a  budding  rose: 
For  star  and  plant,  each  have  their  place, 
And  both  fulfill  their  destined  race. 

XIV. 

The  mysteries  of  the  Universe, 
I  cannot  hope  to  solve  them  here ; 
At  times  their  meanings  grow  more  clear, 
As  sunbeams  oft  the  clouds  disperse; 
But  when  those  clouds  obscure  my  sight 
Then  all  is  lost  again  in  night. 

79] 


Jn 


xv. 

Yet  step  by  step  the  foot  ascends 
That  winding  road,  tho'  hard  and  steep ; 
As  children,  first  we  only  creep, 
Till  manly  strength  its  vigor  lends: 
And  if  the  mists  roll  back  a  space 
We  bless  the  blue  sky's  glorious  face ! 


STEP  BY  STEP. 

There  was  a  time  when  all  the  earth  was  bright, 
Illum'd  by  radiant  glories  from  the  sky, — 
A  visionary  dream  that  floated  nigh, 
Reflecting  colors  like  the  rainbow's  light; 

So  fresh  looked  life,  so  fond  her  youthful  dreams : 
Undarkened  by  dull  Shadows  of  the  Past 
Which  now,  alas,  my  skies  oft  overcast, 
Obscuring  from  my  sight  those  morning-beams! 

[80 


Jn 


Those  tranquil  hours,  with  speeding  Time,  have 

fled; 

Those  hopeful  visions  have  been  laid  aside; 
All,  all  too  iridescent  to  abide, — 
Nor  let  the  stout  heart  mourn  that  they  are  dead : 

For  years  have  brought  to  us  a  larger  view ; 
We  see  how  grand  this  world  which  God  hath 

made, 

And  as  those  visions  waste  away  and  fade, 
Our  daily  tasks  take  on  a  heavenly  hue. 

So  step  by  step  we  may  ascend  to  Him, 
Up  from  that  Valley  where  the  Shadow  lay 
Into  that  freer  life,  that  perfect  day, 
Whose  golden  light  no  cloud  shall  ever  dim. 

A  life  of  service  is  the  noblest  gift 

Which  man  can  tender  as  his  meed  of  praise: 

We  thank  Thee,  Lord,  that  Thou  hast  led  our 

ways! 
For  Light  and  Shade,  to  Thee  our  song  we  lift ! 

81] 


In 


THE  AUTUMN  LEAF. 

I  saw  a  withered  leaf  upon  the  ground ; 

It  lay  there,  dry  and  sere,  a  thing  of  death; 
And  winds  were  crooning  many  a  solemn  sound, 

Among  the  reeds,  embrowned  by  Autumn's 
breath. 

The  elm  which  late  had  cast  his  shade, 
Now  naked  stood — a  melancholy  sight ; 

The  thrush  and  twitt'ring  wren  had  fled  dismayed 
When  em'rald  branches  felt  the  Frost-King's 
blight. 

Ten  thousand  objects  which  my  vision  knew — 
The  myriad  creatures  of  a  summer's  day — 

Dun  wren  and  sunlit  flowers  were  gone  from 

view, 
Old  Earth  herself  seemed  passing  to  decay ! 


[82 


In   S$anp   Hep* 


Yet  how  could  leaf  thus  fade  and  waste  away, 
Or  thoughtless  bird  desert  its  nesting-bower, 

If  hidden  forces  were  not  here  at  play — 
The  wondrous  workings  of  a  Higher  Power  ? 

Thro'  such  a  school,  the  struggling  soul  of  man, 
Beset  by  myst'ries  all  about  him  huiTd, 

Must  learn  the  vastness  of  that  mighty  plan 
Which  weighs  an  atom  and  which  builds  a 
world ! 


THE  VOICE  OF  THE  ORGAN. 

The  shadows  of  night  are  gathering  around, 
The  darkness  descending  has  covered  the  ground. 

The  bird  in  the  grove  has  gone  to  her  nest, 
The  earth  is  all  quiet  and  sunken  to  rest. 

Thro'  rain  and  thro'  mist  the  flickering  taper 
Flares  dim  in  the  dank  and  thick-curtain'd  vapor. 

831 


Jn 


The  chimes  of  the  vespers  are  hush'd  to  repose 
By  fog-cloud  that  stifles  that  sound  as  it  goes. 

The  church-door,  flung  open,  bids  welcome  to  all 
To  enter  within,  thro'  the  dim-lighted  hall. 

Without  there  is  naught  but  dampness  and  cold, 
Within  the  high  chancel  is  glittering  with  gold. 

The  Master-Musician  has  taken  his  chair 

And  strains  of  sweet  music  are  filling  the  air. 

Like  purling  of  waters,  or  birds'  even-song, 
The  music,  now  started,  is  heard  thro'  the  throng : 

The  tones  of  the  organ,  in  sadness  and  sorrow, 
Seem  turn'd  to  the  Past,  quite  forgetting  the 
Morrow ; 

The  eyes  of  the  list'ners  turn  back  to  the  day, 
When  Earth  wore  a  splendor  that  promised  to 
stay. 


Jn 


Yet  sadly  the  organist  dwelt  on  that  theme, 
Well  knowing  things  seen  are  not  that  which  they 
seem. 

But  when  the  musician  had  thus  mused  awhile, 
His  gloom  sought  relief  in  a  more  cheerful  style : 

The  tones  ringing  clear  in  a  high  upper  key 
Re-echoed  the  music  of  earth  and  the  sea; 

Twas  the  gurgling  of  waters  among  the  cool 
stones, 

Twas  lisping  of  leaves,  or  the  grove's  organ- 
tones — 

When  wandering  winds  have  passed  'mong  the 

trees, 
And  musical  branches  are  fanned  by  the  breeze. 

For  harmonic  measures  were  framed  by  Great 

Pan 
To  bring  the  wide  world  to  the  service  of  man. 

85] 


In 


The  soul  of  each  instrument  merely  produces 
Some  apt  phase  of  Nature,  its  voice,  tone  and 
uses. 

If  'raptured  we  hear  such  sweet  songs  and  are 

mute, 
Then  Nature  hath  spoken  thro'  cello  and  flute. 

Yet  Nature's  not  always  so  gladsome  and  gay : 
For  Life,  like  a  shadow,  goes  fleeting  away. 

The   swift   seasons   come,  but  they   scarce  can 

abide, 
Hurried  like  waters,  which  flow  with  the  tide. 

The  leaves  and  the  flowers  are  bright  'neath  the 

sky, 
But  when  the  day  faileth  they  also  must  die ! 

So  man,  even  man,  tho'  wide  he  may  roam, 
Soon  heareth  the  summons  that  calleth  him  home. 

[86 


In   S^anp 


With  thoughts  deeply  saddened,  traversing  his 

mind, 
The  player  sought  vainly  expression  to  find. 

His  soul,  like  the  organ,  was  panting  for  breath, 
With  visions  before  it  of  Time  and  of  Death. 

The  strains  that  were  uttered  were  solemn  and 
deep, 

Like  passing  of  Life  to  its  long-promised  Sleep. 

******** 

The  organ  hath  ceased  its  lament ;  not  a  sound 
Disturbeth  the  church,  or  its  darkness  profound. 


871 


sonnets 


In 


A    VISION    OF    CALIFORNIA. 

Upon  the  margin  of  the  Western  Sea, 
Beside  the  heaving  waters  of  the  deep, 
I  sat  and  watched  the  slow  tide  inward  creep, 

And  heard  the  singing  waves  with  ecstasy — 

Those  magic  waves,  so  charged  with  Destiny ! 
And  still  I  list,  while  eager  thoughts  o'erleap 
The  things  that  are,  for  fields  that  Time  shall 
reap 

In  broadening  harvests  of  the  days  to  be. 
The  vision  of  an  empire  grandly  great, 

Looms  thro'  the  fog  that  rises  from  the  wave; 
The  vision  of  a  mighty  golden  State, 

Whose  sons  are  numbered  'mong  earth's  truly 

brave, 
Because  adorned  by  every  noble  trait — 

Such  is  the  vision  which  old  Ocean  gave. 


Jn   Stpanp 


LOVE  AND  TRUTH  WORKING. 

We  marvel  that  the  Christ  in  shame  should  die 
Upon  the  cross,  with  thief  to  mock  and  scorn 
At  Him,  alas!  by  cruel  sorrows  torn; 

For  seemed  that  Power  Divine  no  longer  nigh, 

When  agonized,  He  made  His  last  dread  cry : 
And  yet  we  know  those  bitter  pains  were  borne 
By  one  who  blessed  the  hearts  of  those  who 
mourn — 

Whose  gentle  soul  could  stifle  every  sigh. 

The    myst'ry    stands    confessed,    most    deep    to 

solve — 

And  thus  may  stand ;  for  risen  from  that  grave, 
With  healing  in  His  wings,  all  earth  to  save, 

His  Spirit  broods,  while  ages  still  revolve. 
For  Love  and  Truth  work  on  a  larger  plan 
Than  seemeth  just  to  narrow-minded  man. 


[92 


In 


STORM   AT   SEA. 

I  love  the  tossing,  ceaseless-rolling  sea! 
I  love  the  din  and  music  of  its  shore 
Where  high  the  waters,  upward  rushing,  pour 

Their  floods  of  yeasty  foam  incessantly. 

My  soul  is  restless  as  thou  seem'st  to  be ; 
I  share  thy  treasures — all  that  ample  store 
Of  kingly  storms  and  winds  is  mine ;  the  more 

Thou  givest,  the  vaster  thine  immensity! 

The  full-orbed  moon,  while  peaceful  sleeps  the 

storm, 
Rules  waves  that  have  not  ceased  their  constant 

flow 
Tho'  long  the  fickle  winds  have  ceased  to  blow. 

But  when  the  savage  tempest  rears  his  form, 
And  frightened  sky  is  lashed  by  raging  sea, 
Thy  roaring  waves  are  crowned  with  majesty ! 


93] 


feongg   Jn   Qpan? 


A  MIND  OF  CALM  CONTENT. 

The  man  who  hath  a  mind  of  calm  content, 
Is  not  less  rich  than  he  whose  ample  field 
Doth  yearly  to  his  groaning  warehouse  yield 

Full  store  of  Nature's  products  freely  lent. 

For  him,  no  dearth  of  rain  can  e'er  prevent 
From  satisfaction  to  his  fullest  need. 
His  heart  is  not  oppressed  by  envious  greed, 

But  thankful,  he  accepts  what  gifts  are  sent. 

Such  man,  indeed,  fills  no  unworthy  place: 
He  will  not  brook  the  rasp  of  trivial  things, 
But  seeks  the  peace  which  firm  Contentment 
brings, — 

Not  least  'mong  those  who  have  adorn'd  the  race. 
A  Pearl  of  Greatest  Price  is  true  Content; 
And  rich  that  man,  to  whom  such  gift  is  sent. 


f94 


Jn   S^anp 


A   MILLION   YEARS   BUT   AS 
YESTERDAY. 

The  roots  of  life  are  buried  in  the  Past, 
Men  draw  their  growth  from  other  days. 
The  world  with  Plato's  thought  is  yet  ablaze; 

The  deathless  Word  of  Christ  grows  still  more 
vast ! 

The  secret  thought  that  springeth  up  at  last — 
Like  wheat  long  stored  in  Cheop's  mystic  maze 
Of  chambered  pyramids,  thro*  devious  ways 

Will  reach  its  hour :  for  now  the  seed  has  cast 

Its  husk  aside, — the  glorious  growth  attests 
The  Garden   of  the   Gods   would   grow  each 

flower 
When  Nature  may  the  best  impart  her  power, 

As  each  in  turn  the  sun  with  life  invests. 
For  measuring  Nature  in  a  larger  way 
A  million  years  are  but  as  yesterday! 


951 


feongo    In    g^anp 


MOTHER  AND  CHILD. 

A  mother  with  her  child  upon  her  breast 
A  slumber-song  is  heard  to  softly  sing, — 
Or  song  or  prayer,  God  knows, — still  uttering 
The  calm  content  of  Love,  and  Hope,  and  Rest : 
Thus  sweetly,  as  a  birdling  to  its  nest, 
The  little  one,  now  borne  on  angel's  wing, 
Has  pass'd  to  slumber-land,  while  hands  yet 

cling 

To  Her, — still  praying  that  it  may  be  blest : 
Then  slumber  calm  and  deep  my  baby  child ! 
While  hosts  of  angels  guard  thy  infant  feet, 
Which    patter,    patter   thro'    the    dream-land 

street ! 

Ah!  slumber  deep,  by  golden  dreams  beguiled! 
Thus  Love,  divine,  hath  let  her  children  know 
The  bliss  of  heaven,  while  yet  on  earth  below. 


[96 


In 


TRANSFORMING  POWER  OF  LOVE. 

Love  struck  his  heart  with  harmony  divine — 
The  waking  chords  responded,  sweet  to  hear ; 
And  even  the  heavenly  hosts  appeared  more 

near, 

When  evening's  lucent  star  began  to  shine. 
Wide  earth  stood  decked  with  splendors  of  the 

mine, — 
With   diamonds,   sapphires,   rubies,   sparkling 

clear ; 
The  thrushes'  warbling  song,  unto  his  listening 

ear 

Came  from  the  thicket  where  the  roses  twine. 
The  crimson  glory  of  the  evening  sky; 
The  sun's  bald  beams;  the  shadows  as  they 

pass; 
The   lights   and   shades   that   play   upon   the 

grass ; 

All  these  were  framed  to  please  the  lover's  eye! 
For  Love,  with  airy  grasp,  doth  lightly  hold 
The  Midas-touch  that  turns  the  earth  to  gold. 

97] 


Jn 


THE  LIGHT  PROPHETIC. 

In  this  dark  pilgrimage  which  mankind  makes, 
Those  brave  of  soul,  like  beacon's  flare  on 

high, 
Still    flash   their   welcome   light   athwart  the 

sky; 

Altho'  the  dashing  wave  with  thunder  breaks 
Along  the  rocky  shore,  that  trembling  quakes 
Beneath  the  tumult  roaring  hoarsely  nigh. 
Tho'  loud  the  shrieking  tempests  wildly  cry — 
The  bold  of  heart  such  danger  never  shakes. 
Like  Atlas  who  uplifts  his  giant  form, 

And  holds  the  sky  from  falling  down  to  earth, 
These  men,  by  kingly  deeds,  have  prov'n  their 

worth, 

And  freely  battled  with  the  raging  storm. 
The  light  prophetic  which  such  spirits  cast 
Dispels  the  gloom   which   shrouds   the  lurid 
Past. 


[98 


In 


THE  COMMONS. 

How  all  admire  the  progress  of  mankind ! 

What  marvels  have  been  framed — on  earth,  in 
air! 

How  great  that  Power  which  reaches  every- 
where,— 

The  broad  dominion  of  Creative  Mind. 
Go  searching  thro'  the  ages,  still  we  find 

How  Progress  limitless  hath  stationed  there 

Brave  leaders  sent  to  clear  life's  thoroughfare : 
A  Moses,  John,  or  Prophet  Milton  blind, — 
Who  toiled  to  save  the  struggling  human-race: 

Their  deeds  are  epic  songs ;  they  each  and  all 

Have  nobly  sought,  at  Duty's  clarion  call, 
To  do  their  tasks — to  fill  their  appoint'd  place. 

Thus  grandly,  too,  have  ev'n  the  Commons 
wrought, 

In  deeds  unsung,  in  unrecorded  thought. 


991 


Jn 


TRUTH  IS  CHANGELESS. 

Beneath  the  sun  we  find  there's  nothing  new ; 
All  things  that  are,  have  been  and  yet  will  be ; 
Time  stealeth  on  his  way  how  silently! 
An  Age  hath  come,  ere  his  approach  we  view. 
The  flowers  which  childhood's  fancy  ever  grew 
Have  withered  down:  their  loss  we  failed  to 

see 

Until  we  stumbled  on  the  vacant  lea, 
Where,  in  our  youth,  the  flower-clad  mead  we 

knew. 

The  ceaseless  change  comes  round  to  all  in  turn : 
Seed  time  and  merry  harvest  shall  not  fail, 
Nor  sunny   hours,   nor  snow,   nor  heat,   nor 

hail- 
While  moon  and  stars  upon  their  courses  burn. 
Yet  things  we  see  are  not  what  they  appear — 
They  seem  to  change, — but  changeless  Truth 
is  here! 

[100 


Jn 


THE  POWER  OF  FAITH. 

The  Doubting  Thomas  never  will  believe 
Until  to  him  the  gaping  wounds  are  bared ; 
His  halting  faith  has  never  boldly  dared 

The  beaten  track  of  daily  life  to  leave : 

And  yet,  in  secret,  he  must  deeply  grieve 

O'er  idle  fears, — so  thoughtlessly  declared — 
O'er  doubts — which  strong-willed  Peter  never 
shared — 

Concerning  One  who  no  man  would  deceive. 

By  faith  the  martyrs  thro'  the  ages  past 

Have  vanquished  death,  and  gained  a  golden 

crown ; 
Thro'  faith,  stout  Luther  hurl'd  defiance  down 

And  met  the  mad  assaults  against  him  cast. 
Without  Faith's  aid  in  ruin  earth  would  fall: 
How  vast  her  power  sublime,  supporting  all! 


101] 


Jn 


THE  TRUE  VICTOR. 

What!  tremblest  thou,  because  thy  way  looks 
dark  ; 

Because  thy  feet  have  erred  and  gone  astray; 

Because  thy  road  has  been  a  troubled  way, 
And  f ail'd  to  reach  the  evV  retreating  mark  ? 
O  helpless  doubter !  if  thou  canst  but  hark, 

The  voice  of  strong-willed  Courage  shall  essay 

To  call  those  latent  forces  into  play, 
Which  wait  but  to  receive  the  eager  spark 
To  touch  them  into  flame.    Within  the  mind 

God  set  a  power  to  conquer  every  ill; 

He  conquers  best  who  truly  says,  "I  will!" 
And  boldly  presses  on,  though  almost  blind. 

Not  he  who  never  fell  shall  win  the  crown, 

But  he  who  stoutly  rose  again  when  down. 


[102 


Jn 


NOBILITY  OF  WORK. 

He  sees  the  port,  while  breakers  loudly  roar 
And  lash  his  tossing  boat.     Against  the  tide 
He  stoutly  pulled,  his  eager  power  applied 

To  breast  the  flood  that  battled  on  the  shore ; 

For  well  he  knew  that  man  can  work  no  more 
When  night  at  last  has  come;  each  task  he 

tried 
Was  treated  as  a  trust  by  heaven  supplied, 

Whereon  he  could  a  hero's  strength  outpour. 

Life  is  not  made  of  idle,  empty  dreams — 
A  vacant  child  of  vast  eternity — 
A  thing  devoid  of  all  sincerity — 

But    life    is    work,    and    with    work's    blessing 

teems. 

Man  gains  nobility  thro'  toil  and  strife; 
The  worker  but  fulfills  the  ends  of  life. 


103] 


Song*   In   fl£an? 


PRISONERS  OF  HOPE. 

Forget!  methinks  'tis  not  so  harsh  a  thing 
That  one  should  lay  aside  the  cares  that  fret 
His  daily  life,  and  for  a  time  forget; 

The  'prisoned  thrush  will  not  refuse  to  sing ! 

His  notes  with  woodland  gladness  ever  ring: 
When  fluttering  wings  by  iron  bars  are  met, 
Ev'n  this  he  thinks  not  ill  he  should  forget — 

His  care- free  heart  with  joy  re-echoing ! 

The  free-born  soul  refuses  to  be  bound, 
Tho'  thousand  petty  evils  round  it  rise; 

'T  were  shame,  indeed,  to  grovel  on  the  ground 
When  overhead  such  wondrous  beauty  lies : 

Eternal  goodness  circling  man  around, — 
If  caged  ?    Then  caged  by  canopy  of  skies ! 


[104 


In   9$anp 


THE  PROBLEM. 

From  mystery  to  mystery  we  go! 

The  grass  that  spreads  its  glossy  leaf  to  day 

Lives  life  as  perfect,  in  its  humble  way, 
As  gaudy  orchids,  deck'd  for  gorgeous  show. 
The  wind's  unceasing  journey  to  and  fro, 

But  who,  presumptuous,  can  their  courses  say  ? 

Who  sees  the  future  of  the  child  at  play? 
Who  claims,  of  life  the  hidden  springs  to  know  ? 
The  everlasting  hills,  of  old  ordain'd, 

All  speak  the  presence  of  Creative  Mind : 

In  these  huge  forms  the  wakeful  soul  may 

find, 
The  hand  of  Him  whose  fiat  Chaos  chain'd: 

Still— who,  the  Why,  the  Whence,  the  Where 
can  see? 

All  this  remains  to  man  a  mystery! 


SITY   OP   CALIFORNIA 
LIBRARY 

Due  two  weeks  after  date. 


" 
SENT  ON  ILL 

MAY  0  8  1998 

U.  C.  BERKELEY 


30w-7,'12 


12096 


